Aftermath
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: In the aftermath of war, the Death Eater and Golden Girl must face the consequences of their actions.
1. I-IV

I'm back! This story is in 20 smallish parts, so I'll post 4 at a time because the overall piece is pretty long. As always, I own nothing.

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><p>I.<p>

When the battle ended, Draco Malfoy, the once proud, pureblooded Death Eater, went in search of the one person he knew he should avoid. The Aurors would arrive soon to cart him off to Azkaban, but he needed to see her. They had met briefly in the middle of battle in the Room of Requirement, and a sigh of relief was breathed to see that she was alright. After all, not many survived the tortures of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Hermione Granger was different though. She was stronger than any woman he had met before. Despite class differences, he had been enthralled with her during their school days. Teasing and taunting became a form of foreplay to him. He wanted to rile her up, to see her blush, to get under her skin. It was during their sixth year that he finally got close to her. Sitting side by side at the only unoccupied table in the library, he kissed her on a whim. Cheeks reddening, he apologized and ran away. When they next saw one another, again in the library, it was Hermione who kissed him.

A secret relationship was maintained until Hermione left for the Burrow just weeks before the next school term would begin. Draco had gone months without seeing her, without knowing that she was alive. Idly, he wondered if she would visit him in prison now that the threat of war no longer hung over their heads. Her friends would never approve, but Draco cared little for Harry Potter or the Weasleys. His only concern now was Hermione.

He found her in an abandoned classroom attempting to heal a gash on her cheek. Silently, he entered and shut the door, locking it to prevent intruders. "Need a hand?" he asked, his throat sore from smoke and shouted spells. She looked up, eyes red from crying and exhaustion, and nodded her head. He limped as he neared her, and cupped her chin. His wand traced the bleeding cut, closing it as it moved. "Better?" he asked when he was done.

She removed his hand from her chin and held it. "What happens now?" she wondered.

Sighing, he sat on the desk beside her. "Now...we kiss goodbye," he replied. "The Aurors are rounding up Death Eaters, and I'm one of them."

"I'll vouch for you," she insisted, using her free hand to catch a tear that fell. "You never wanted that life. You didn't want to hurt anyone. You were just trying to protect your mother. That has to mean something to them."

"I don't think it will," he said. "Maybe the sentence will be reduced if you testify, but I've accepted the fact that I've committed crimes that I need to pay for."

Hermione laughed mirthlessly as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Do you really have to start being noble now?" she bemoaned.

His chuckle was far more genuine as he kissed her. "Well, I don't have to start just yet," he murmured. They left the room ten minutes later, parting with a kiss before returning to the Great Hall. She loved him. They were the last words the pair shared before Draco was arrested. Hermione watched wordlessly as his hands were bound behind his back and the Aurors led him away.

II.

A magical barrier separated the pair as they talked for the first time in weeks. Hermione fiddled with the ring she wore on her right index finger. Draco had placed the Malfoy crest there before his arrest, and she had yet to remove it. Worry knit her dark brows together as she studied him. It appeared that meals were not common in Azkaban.

"I intend to discuss this with the Minister," she stated angrily. "They're starving you. Is that the goal? Starve the Death Eaters so they don't have to pay for trials? This is barbaric!"

Draco sat back in his seat, looking anywhere but at her. "Why'd you come today?" he asked. His mood was dour. His father had already been sentenced to life in prison, while his mother had been restricted to house arrest for six months. Their trials had ended days earlier, but he had only just found out their fates that morning.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant," she said, refusing to mince words. "That night, after the battle...um, it happened then. I thought you should know."

Worried eyes settled on her. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice wavering. "Is it...it's really mine?" When she confirmed that the baby was his, Draco placed his head in his hands and began to cry. There was nothing she could do to comfort him. Finally, he looked up. "I'm so sorry."

She placed her hand on the barrier. "For what?" she wondered. "Your trial is next month, and then you'll come home. There's no need for apologies. Unless...I know you've been through a lot. If you want no part of this, I understand."

Their hands met on the partition. "It's not that," he said, sniffling. The dirty sleeve of his prison-issued jumpsuit dried his cheeks. "I...I'm not getting out of here. Horrible things, Hermione, I did horrible things. The torturing and kidnapping and cursing...all pains I inflicted on people who didn't deserve it. I just...I thought I was done with that, and now I've hurt you too."

"You haven't," she assured him. "I meant it that night when I said I love you. My feelings for you haven't changed, Draco."

Frustration was beginning to get the better of him. He stood quickly, his chair nearly falling to the ground, and he began to pace. "I can't be a father," he told her angrily. "Not in here. That baby deserves better. _You_ deserve better."

Hermione watched as he traversed the small room. "What if I want you?" she wondered, her voice even and devoid of any emotion that may betray how hurt she felt. He stopped, turned to face her, and frowned. "I'm not saying that you have to stick around. If being a father isn't what you want, I understand. If that's your reason, I won't force this. But if you're afraid that you're not good enough, then it's going to become my new life mission to prove to you that you are."

He chuckled softly as he reclaimed his seat. "I love you," he murmured. "Promise me something though. If..._when_ they convict me, don't wait for me. If you find someone else, someone you can see spending your life with, don't wait for me. Be happy."

Though she agreed, Hermione knew it was not a promise she intended to keep.

III.

Hermione had only just begun to show when Draco stood trial. The change in appearance was called into question and quickly overruled by the Minister before she was forced to admit to the Wizengamot that she carried Draco Malfoy's child. Instead, she testified that he had joined the Death Eaters under coercion. His mother's life dangled in the balance, and he was a loving son who would do anything to ensure her survival.

Her eyes remained trained on the man she loved as she spoke. He was thinner than he had been the last time they had seen one another. His blond locks, matted with dirt and grease, had grown halfway to shoulder-length. Gray eyes, once on fire with desire, now bore no light. This was not the same boy who went out of his way to tease her in school. This was not the boy who kissed her in the library when no one else was looking. He was not the boy who held her after making love, declaring that he would be hers forever. Now, he was broken, and Hermione wondered if there was a way to put him back together.

When she was dismissed from the stand, the rest of the trial became a blur. She half listened to testimony and wholly watched Draco. She counted the number of witnesses left, wishing the governing board would make their decision already. The sooner he was proven innocent, the sooner they could get on with their lives.

But innocence was not in the cards for Draco Malfoy. The verdict came back guilty, and he was sentenced to five years in Azkaban. Hermione thought she might faint. Had Harry Potter not been by her side, she very likely would have fallen. Across the hall, she heard a guttural scream, and saw that Narcissa Malfoy needed to be supported by those around her. Without thinking, Hermione got to her feet and went to Draco's mother.

Blue eyes widened at her approach before shifting to the small swell of the young witch's abdomen. "Mrs. Malfoy, I-"

"It's true?" Narcissa asked, shooing away those around her. She sat, beckoning for Hermione to do the same. She nodded as she took a seat. Narcissa exhaled as she placed a hand on her forehead. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound rude. You and my son...I had no idea. This entire day has been exhausting."

Hermione understood why Draco had not told his mother. Purebloods were proud, and the Malfoys would never approve of a halfblood grandchild. They had sullied the pure bloodlines, and she was sure her child would not be well received by the Malfoy matriarch.

"Where are you staying?" Narcissa asked, surprising Hermione and herself. Dark brows rose questioningly. Harry had offered her a room at 12 Grimmauld Place after she had broken the news of her relationship with Draco to the Weasley family. They'd intended to go to Australia to locate her parents and reverse the memory charms, but put the trip on hold due to her condition. "The manor is so large and empty. I could use the company."

"But I'm-"

"Pregnant with my grandchild," the witch interrupted. "If you have other living arrangements, I understand. Rumor has it your parents are no longer in the country, and there's a bit of dissent between you and the Weasleys. I don't mean to overstep my bounds, but I wanted to offer."

Hermione looked to where Draco had sat just minutes earlier before being taken away by the Azkaban guards. He would want this, she thought. The last time they had spoken, Draco had worried about his mother's well being. She was alone, with only the house elves for company. Harry knew next to nothing about children, and even less about keeping a tidy house. The arrangement could be beneficial to both witches.

"I'd love to," Hermione finally agreed. "One condition though - please never make me go in the drawing room."

A week later, Hermione moved into Malfoy Manor with Harry's help. Only once had he attempted to talk her into staying with him. "So, this was Malfoy's room?" he asked, opening a box of picture frames.

Hermione nodded as she unpacked her clothing. "It was Narcissa's idea," she told him. "Since he's been gone, she said she'd been spending a lot of time in here. At least now she won't be alone when she does it. Did you know she's not allowed to visit him?"

Harry, an Auror, knew. She had needed special permission from the Minister to attend her son's trial. "It's sad," he said. "She saved my life, and now she's stuck in this house. The only reason she saved me was her son, and she's not even allowed to see him. It's unfair. Have you been by to see him?"

"No, not since the trial," she replied. "Honestly, I don't know what to say to him. He told me to move on, but I can't see myself doing that. As right as it feels being here, I worry how he'll react when he finds out."

Abandoning his task, Harry sat at the foot of the bed and frowned at her. "He doesn't want to be with you?" he wondered.

Hermione shook her head. "It's not that. It's more...he doesn't want me to give up my life waiting for him," she said. "I could have been with Ron. I know how he feels about me. The idea of someone else raising our child though...I'm not sure I can go along with that."

IV.

"I spoke with Kingsley," Hermione said as she entered the visitation room. The partition was no longer between them, and Draco was happy for the chance to hold her close. "He said they'd consider letting you out early for good behavior."

Draco snorted as he pulled back. "It's not like I see anyone," he muttered. "Can't get into trouble if the only company I receive are the guards who slip my meals through a slot in the door. At least they let you come today."

His hand rested on her stomach. Tentatively, lovingly, he touched her. "I'll find out next month what we're having," she told him excitedly. "Your mother has been a godsend. Although, it might be nice to have some input on the nursery. She's convinced we're having a girl, and everything must be pink. It's like a cotton candy machine threw up in the room next to yours."

A familiar smirk hitched up the right corner of his mouth. "Sleeping in my bed, are you?" he asked, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

"The stasis charm makes it smell like you," she murmured, kissing him for the first time in months. "Not that you smell like a stasis charm, just that it..."

"Yeah, I know," he replied. "Merlin, I've missed you. Everything's okay? You're healthy? Still talking to your friends? Not contemplating how many ways you can kill my mother and make it look like an accident?"

Laughing, Hermione sat down. "Actually, Ron and I aren't speaking," she shared. "Other than that, life is good. It would be better if you were home, but I don't know there's much I can do there."

"Slip me a wand," he suggested. "I'll blast my way out. We'll go on the run. You, me, the baby. It'll be an adventure. I'm willing to wager you haven't had nearly enough of those in your life."

What was intended as a joke was not taken that way. "Do this right," she advised. "Be good, play by their rules, and come back to us a free man."

He kissed her then with the promise to do as she asked.


	2. V-VIII

Thanks for the great response to part 1! It feels good to be back. In case anyone cares, I picked the baby's name because it has special significance to me. It's the name of two very special women in my life who've been like grandmothers to me.

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><p>V.<p>

Hermione was unable to contain her excitement the next time she visited Draco. "It's a girl," she announced when he was brought into the visitation room. "We're have a girl."

Draco hugged her tightly, resisting the urge to never let her go. Hermione, though, was more concerned about the prominence of his bones. "The food's bad," he mumbled, taking a seat. "Tell me more. She's healthy, yeah? You're feeling alright? Mother isn't too overbearing?"

She nodded, letting him know that everything at home was fine. "You don't look well," she said, dragging the tips of her fingers over his protruding cheekbones. "Please let me talk to Kingsley. Maybe I could bring you food or a few blankets. Has a healer been to see you? You feel feverish."

"I'm fine," he told her, removing her hand from his face. "And I'm sure I'll be better after you force the Minister of Magic to improve my conditions. Honestly, Hermione, there are more important things for you to focus your energy on. Potter said you two haven't talked in awhile. Whose doing is that?"

She stared at their joined hands and shrugged. "A little of both," she admitted. Since moving out of 12 Grimmauld Place, the friends had only seen one another by chance. It had been easier, for the sake of Harry and Ron's friendship, to ease herself out of Harry's life. He was, after all, dating Ron's only sister. Given Harry's desire for a family, she expected that soon their engagement announcement would appear in _The Daily Prophet_. "I'll talk to him," she promised, "after I talk to Kingsley about your accommodations. At the rate you're losing weight, you and the baby will be the same size by the end of the year."

His laughter was short lived as she glared at him. In truth, though the Dementors were gone and the guards were a bit more humane, the solitary confinement, bad food, and loneliness contributed to a sense of depression that only worsened when Hermione left. "I, um...you know I love you, right?" he asked her. Brows furrowed with confusion and worry, Hermione nodded. "I wouldn't...I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it was necessary."

Her hold on his hand tightened. "You're frightening me," she told him.

"I think, maybe for the time being, you shouldn't visit so often," he continued, unable to face her. Head down, he felt the warmth of his tears as they slid down his cheeks. "Being in here, being away from you when I know what you're going through right now, it...hurts, Hermione. It hurts."

Pulling away, Hermione nodded and stood. "I understand," she murmured, kissing his cheek. "Just let me know when you're ready."

VI.

Harry's foot tapped nervously against the leg of the coffee table. Seated in the main living room of Malfoy Manor, he waited alone until Hermione joined him. Narcissa never greeted him, preferring to keep her distance from the Auror. Hermione explained that Harry was too much a reminder of the war for the older witch. She had, after all, risked her life to save Harry's. And while she had gotten off with minimal punishment, her son and husband sat in Azkaban. "She'll come around," Hermione always told him.

He smiled hesitantly when his friend appeared, and rose to hug her. "Been to see Malfoy recently?" he asked, helping her sit.

"Not since I found out the baby's gender," Hermione replied. It had been a month, and she hadn't received so much as a note from Draco. "I've spoken to Kingsley about the conditions there. He said he would grant us permission to supply Draco with meals. I just wish I knew if he were eating them. It scares me how thin he's become. You've been to see him, haven't you? Does he look any better?"

Harry shrugged. "He looks about the same," he told her. "He asks about you, but doesn't like lengthy conversations. He hasn't mentioned the baby once. I think maybe it's just easier to pretend that he doesn't have a life waiting for him outside the walls of Azkaban, especially when it'll be years before he gets to live it."

"And there's nothing you can do?" she asked. "There's no way to reduce the sentence, or commute it to house arrest?"

"Hermione, we can't do that because his secret girlfriend is pregnant," Harry replied. "And we both know that you know we can't do that."

Chagrined, Hermione smiled. "Can't fault me for trying," she murmured. "Listen, um, there's something you should know, and I'm hoping it's something you'll relay to Draco since he's not returning my letters. Healer Miller has restricted me to bedrest for the rest of the pregnancy. She's concerned about my blood pressure and the after effects of repeated exposure to the Cruciatus curse. Narcissa watches me like a hawk. It's becoming unbearable."

Harry frowned, his green eyes full of concern and worry for his friend. "And you didn't tell Malfoy?" he asked.

"I did," she said. "I just need confirmation that he knows. Not that I want to add to his stress or depression, but he deserves to know what's going on. I just wish he would talk to me."

VII.

"You'll be interested to know that you're a father," Harry said pointedly. It had been months since their last check-in, and Harry had needed to cancel the previous meeting when Hermione went into labor.

Draco stared at his feet as Harry spoke. He didn't want the details. He didn't want to know about the further pain he had caused. He didn't want to hear about the fatherless child and overburdened mother. "Enough!" he shouted, covering his ears with his hands. "Just...please stop."

"Why?" Harry demanded. "I thought you cared about her. That's all I've heard the last eight months from the both of you. Has Hermione been misled, or is she lying to cover for you?"

The blond sat up straight, gray eyes wide, and mouth open as he shook his head. "No...I," he stopped to take a deep breath, "I love her. I just can't listen to this. I can't be with her, and it's easier to pretend nothing outside here exists. She understands that."

Harry scoffed. "Maybe four months ago she did," he muttered. "You keep this up, especially when you've still got years left on your sentence, and she'll find someone else. She'll move on, and your daughter will be calling someone else daddy. If I were you, I'd talk to Hermione, if she's who you really want to be with."

"Do you think she'll see me?"

Getting to his feet, Harry walked to the door, signalling for the guard. "I'll talk to her," he promised. "By the way, your daughter's name is Eleanor."

VIII.

Hermione returned to Azkaban for the first time in several months. Head held high, she regarded Draco coolly when they were once again face to face. There was something off about him, something not quite right. The circles beneath his eyes were darker, his bottom lip looked fuller, and she could have sworn his right cheek was bruised.

"What happened?" she asked, studying him for further signs of abuse.

Draco shrugged. "Got jumped in the showers," he mumbled. "How is she? The baby, I mean. She's okay?"

A small smile touched Hermione's lips as she produced a photograph of their month old daughter. "She's perfect," she replied. "A little under seven pounds when she was born, but she can eat. Um, I know we never really discussed names, but I hope you're alright with the name I gave her. She has your mother's as a middle name."

He knew how close she had been to her maternal grandmother, and thought it a beautiful tribute to a woman she had so loved as a child. "I like it," he assured her, reaching for her hand. In his other hand was the photo of their daughter. "She looks like you. What's she like?"

"Besides perfect?" Hermione asked, clearly enamored with her child. "She's a good sleeper, hardly cries, and has the most beautiful blue eyes I've ever seen. Harry and Narcissa constantly argue over who gets to hold her. Luckily, she's mine, so it's an easy argument to diffuse. You're mother has been a wonderful grandmother. Honestly, I don't know that I would have gotten through the last few months without her."

Draco looked down at the table, chagrined and guilty. It should have been him by her side during the pregnancy. He should have held her hand and whispered encouraging words during labor and delivery. He should be holding his daughter now. Instead, Eleanor would be four years old upon his release. "I'm sorry," he murmured, squeezing her hand.

"I would prefer our daughter know that her father did the right thing by accepting the consequences for his actions, rather than running away from them," Hermione replied.

"I would prefer she know her father," Draco retorted.

"As would I," she agreed. "There's nothing we can do about it though. Thankfully, she's too young to understand what's going on, and by the time you're out, it'll be like you were never gone."

Draco smirked. "Planning on implanting some new memories?" he asked. Though she considered the idea for a moment, Hermione denied that was her intention. "Um, the Minister came by to see me the other day. I'm sorry, I should have mentioned it sooner. This wasn't the first run-in I've had with other inmates, and the guards seem to be of little help. A lot of the time, they join in. The Malfoys don't exactly inspire warm, fuzzy feelings, and I'm certain my father has wronged quite a few people in here. Anyhow, we discussed the possibility of commuting my sentence to house arrest for my own safety."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hermione rounded the table and wrapped her arms around him. "Merlin, I can't believe you let me go on and on while you had such important news," she replied. "You're really coming home?"

Draco grinned. "Yes, love, I'm really coming home."


	3. IX-XII

IX.

Escorted by Harry and Kingsley Shacklebolt, Draco left Azkaban for Malfoy Manor. For the remainder of his sentence, the Ministry would track him with a trace similar to the one used on underaged students. But Draco didn't mind. His child was behind those large, imposing doors, and he had no intention of ever leaving her. He wanted to run, leaving his counterparts in his dust, but knew it would be undignified. Though, he would admit that he had little concern with propriety.

Harry smirked, sensing his impatience. "Go. We'll catch up," he murmured. After thanking him, Draco took off for the front door. Kingsley's dark brows rose as humor lit his eyes. "What? The guy has a kid he'd like to meet. I'm not completely heartless when it comes to the Malfoys. His mother did save my life, after all."

"Forgiving his mother does not mean you've forgiven him," Kingsley said wisely. "Hermione hasn't seen the Weasleys in months. I hope you don't intend to turn your back on her now that he's home."

Harry shook his head. "I won't," he vowed. "She knows I won't." While Ron's terms for friendship were all or nothing, Harry had been more willing to take things one day at a time. Hermione was alone, save for Narcissa, and he couldn't walk out of her life. "I think he really cares about her. I can't fault him for that."

The men entered the manor long after Draco had. The blond stood in the foyer with a little girl, bundled in pink blankets, in his arms. Harry rounded him to greet Hermione, and noticed the tears in Draco's eyes as he kissed his daughter's forehead. "I don't think he ever intends to let her go," Hermione whispered, resting her head on her friend's shoulder. "I think he's in love."

"Who isn't in love with her?" Harry questioned as Eleanor began to cry.

Draco looked up, gray eyes wide and scared. "What did I do?" he asked.

Smiling, Hermione escorted him upstairs to feed the baby in private. "You're going to have to give her up," she said, taking a seat on the small sofa inside her bedroom. "This is kind of a job only I'm equipped for."

Blushing, he did as she requested and turned away. "So, the room looks the same," he commented. "What made you choose this one?"

Hermione shrugged as she adjusted her daughter in her arms. "It's yours," she replied. "Thinking you'd be gone for five years, I wanted to be someplace that had some memory of you. If you want it back, I'll understand."

When he turned to face her, his brows furrowed. "I kind of thought we'd be together," he admitted. "I had these big ideas about what would happen when I was released. We'd buy a house, someplace that was just right for a family of three. After the right amount of time passed, I'd propose and we'd get married. I had this whole scenario planned out where I spend the rest of my life with you, but I understand if that's not what you want. After everything I've done to you, I don't think I deserve to get to keep you."

"What about what I want?" she asked with a frown. "Because there's a saying, 'to the victor goes the spoils,' and last I checked, my side won."

He inched closer, glancing up every so often to make sure she wanted him to be near. When she didn't protest, he sat down beside her. "I love you," he said, staring down at the floor.

"I know," she replied, "which is why this will work."

X.

Despite being home, Draco found it hard to sleep. While Hermione slumbered in the king-sized bed that had once been his, Draco made himself as comfortable as he could in the rocking chair beside Eleanor's cradle. When she fussed, he was by her side, consoling her, feeding her, changing a dirty nappy. Each night, after Hermione had fallen asleep, he cast a silencing charm over the bed. If Eleanor cried, her mother was unaware, and Draco was more than happy to tell her the baby had slept through the night. He knew she didn't believe it, but she seemed grateful, nonetheless, for a good night's sleep.

"Come on, sweetheart, quiet down," Draco pled as he rocked his daughter while pacing the large room. "Please, Ellie, I know you're tired."

The door opened quietly and closed with a gentle click. Narcissa cleared her throat to get her son's attention, but Draco was unwilling to give it. "May I help?" she asked, approaching him.

Draco held his daughter tighter. "She's mine," he replied bitingly.

"I know," she said softly. "I have no intention of taking her away. Your father was often away from home when you were Eleanor's age. In fact, he spent the first four months of your life in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable on another wizard. Like Hermione, I gave birth without my husband by my side. I remember when your father was released. He was quite the same way you are now."

Draco scowled. "Thank you for comparing me to the man who ruined my life," he muttered. "I'm so glad he's been such a good role model for me."

Placing a hand on his arm, Narcissa ceased his pacing as Eleanor began to calm down. "That wasn't what I meant," she stated, teeth clenched. "We both know that you are nothing like him. The longer he was home, the less interested he became in his role as your father. Yes, like you've been doing, he would dote on you and let no one else near you. The difference, my dear, is I know you won't lose interest the way he did."

Draco settled Eleanor in the cradle, and frowned when he turned back to his mother. "He really wasn't interested in being a father?" he asked. "Or did he just disapprove of me?"

Sighing, she sat down on the settee in front of the fireplace. The last embers were beginning to die out, but they still provided warmth. "Lucius had his own ideas of what his son should be," she admitted. "He thought you should be intelligent and manly and superior, and when you didn't live up to his quite lofty ideals, he found it easier to turn his back on you. That was always the Malfoy way. His own father treated him the same. Some men, though, choose to break the mold. Some men decide to be the kind of father they never had, but truly wanted. I think that's the kind of father you'll be."

XI.

"We should move," Draco declared. They had been in Diagon Alley for only a few minutes, but all eyes were on the young couple pushing the pram.

"We're not exactly an expected sight," Hermione replied. "Besides, they're probably all wondering what you're doing here when you're supposed to be locked up."

A routine visit to St. Mungo's for Eleanor and a check-in with the Minister of Magic had given Draco the opportunity to see something other than Malfoy Manor. He knew a stroll through the alley would produce the exact results it had, but he had foolishly hoped that people would mind their own business. Instead, they sneered and whispered about the pair as they walked past.

"I'm tired of being a headline," he muttered, pushing the pram toward the Leaky Cauldron.

They entered the pub and prepared to floo home. Draco held Eleanor protectively, shielding her from prying eyes or paparazzi cameras. With a wave of her wand, Hermione shrunk the pram to a size that would fit in the diaper bag she carried. With the task finished, she looked to Draco, ready to leave. "Ignore them," she cautioned, seeing the anger in his eyes. "Remember - you hit them, you go back to Azkaban. To be quite honest, I've come to enjoy sleeping at night, so don't do that."

The joke took a bit of the bite out of his attitude, and he chuckled softly. "Still, I think we should move," he replied. "Talk the Minister into it, will you?"

Hermione laughed as they stepped into the floo. "I think I'm all out of favors," she told him. "Besides, we can't leave your mother. She'll be all alone in that big, old house with nothing but bad memories to keep her company."

They returned to Malfoy Manor and the suite the family of three had occupied since Draco's release. "She could come with us," Draco suggested, undressing the baby from her winter wear. Hermione looked at him skeptically. "What? It's not like I want to live with my mother, but I do feel responsible for taking care of her. After everything she's done for you and Ellie, I can't walk away from her. You though...I don't know. Maybe you should be someplace that's more comfortable. Are you really okay living here?"

"Your mother took me in when I had nowhere else to go," she stated. "I know you worry about the nightmares, but they would still come if we lived somewhere else. What matters is that you're here with us. I don't care where we are, so long as you're there too."

Turning to face her, he handed Eleanor to her before kissing her. "I'm not going anywhere," he vowed.

XII.

"I don't get it," Blaise said, holding the youngest Malfoy apprehensively. "How did this even happen?"

Rolling his eyes, Draco relieved his friend. "Well, Blaise, when a man and a woman really love each other-"

"Not that," Blaise cut in. "I mean you and Granger. How did that start? Why did it start? How did no one know? I mean, it wasn't until she showed up at your trial that anyone even began to put the pieces together."

Draco shrugged, not caring if his friend knew the private details of his relationship. "We had our reasons," he muttered cryptically. "Besides, I didn't call you over here to gossip about my love life. I need a favor."

"But we can gossip later?" he asked facetiously, receiving, in reply, a glower from Draco. "Okay, fine. What's the favor?"

"Find Hermione's parents," Draco requested. Dark brows furrowed as Blaise asked for more details. All Draco could offer was money and the vaguest idea of a location. Hermione had sent them to Sydney, but both knew it was a lot of ground to cover. "Take Pucey with you. He's good with memory charms. Besides, two locator charms is better than one. The sooner, the better too. If you could have them home by the end of the month, I'll see to it that the both of you get a nice bonus."

"Why the end of the month?" Blaise wondered as Eleanor began to cry.

Groaning, the blond stood to rock his daughter before summoning a bottle. "Because I would like to propose to my girlfriend, the mother of my child, and her parents should be here for that," he explained. "Besides, she told my mother she wouldn't get married until her parents were home."

Though he agreed to take the job, Blaise couldn't help expressing his concerns. "What if they don't want to come back?" he wondered. Gray eyes widened, full of questions he hoped his friend might answer. "It's just...everyone knows what Granger did and why. I don't know enough about muggles or muggles with magical children, but I'm guessing her parents won't be thrilled to have had magic used against them. Especially when the reason for it was so she could go off to fight a war. What if, once they find out what's happened, they don't come back?"

"Just get them here," Draco stated. "We'll deal with explanations when the time comes."


	4. XIII-XVI

XIII.

"You asked them to do _what_?" Hermione demanded as she dressed Eleanor for the day. He'd intended for it to be a surprise, but it didn't shock Draco that she found out. "I didn't need Pucey and Zabini to handle my family business. I could have done this on my own. What gives you the right to just take over?"

"Because it's been, what, two years since you sent them away?" Draco responded. "I know you've been busy all that time, but it didn't seem right to delay this any longer. Besides, when would you have had time to take off for Australia, what with your N.E.W.T.s and child to think of?"

Lips pursed and arms crossed, Hermione glared at him as she attempted to formulate an excuse. "I could have taken Ellie with me," she told him indignantly.

Draco took the dressed baby from her arms. "You'd really do that to me?" he asked softly. "You'd take her away from me for however long it took to find them?"

The angry bravado fell as she processed his question. "Merlin, no, sweetheart," she murmured. "I'm sorry. This just...it should have been me searching for them, even though I know, logistically, we'd have to wait another four years to do it. Thank you, love, for asking them to do this."

He wound his free arm around her, holding her close. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he replied. "I wanted it to be a surprise, and I also didn't want to get your hopes up that they'd find them. At least you now know that they're coming home. Does that offer you any peace of mind at all?"

Sighing, Hermione pulled away. She knew what she was facing now that her parents' memories were restored. They would be furious. Already wary of magic, that had asked her to never turn her wand on them. It was an easy promise to keep as a twelve year old, but at seventeen, as war loomed and their safety was questionable, it was a promise she needed to break.

"What do you think they'll think of Eleanor?" she wondered, feeling her anxiety spike. Her parents were rigid in their beliefs of a "proper" family, and that did not include having a child out of wedlock.

Draco made silly faces at his daughter, and in return, received a gently cooed giggle. "Who wouldn't love this little one?" he wondered, sitting down beside his girlfriend. "Honestly, I think if my mother, the second coming of Emily Post, can accept our family, then so can your parents. After everything we've gone through, don't we deserve a little happiness? It's not like they can do anything about it."

Hermione shrugged. "They could disown me," she pointed out.

"They could," he agreed, "or they'll be happy that you're alive and safe. Maybe it won't matter that you erased their memories of you. You did it to protect them from an enemy they stood zero chance against. If you inherited your logic from them, they'll understand that. And if they are mad, you've still got people who love you here."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Okay," she murmured. "I'm ready."

The news of her parents' return had come early that morning before Draco awoke. Had it been his night to take care of Eleanor, perhaps he could have intercepted Blaise's letter without her knowing. Though, now that he had witnessed her reaction, a surprise might have been worse.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, reaching the door at the same time Hermione did. She grabbed his hand, her hold on it too tight to be comfortable, and that answered his question. Her hand grew clammy as they approached the sitting room, where Narcissa waited with the Grangers. A tense silence greeted the couple; even Eleanor, prone to giggles, was quiet. Narcissa rose, smiling at the couple, and offered to take her granddaughter. Nodding, Draco passed her into his mother's arms. "Mr. and Mrs. Granger, it's lovely to meet you. I'm-"

"We know who you are," Robert Granger stated. "Who my daughter dates is the least of our concerns right now. Why we were Monica and Wendell Wilkins of Sydney, Australia for the last two years seems to be a more pressing matter."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione explained her reasons for doing what she had done. She was persistent in her belief that she was protecting them. Her mother stared stoically while her father periodically scoffed in disbelief. "I just...I didn't know what else to do," she concluded, drying her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you or upset you, and I hope that someday you'll forgive me."

Helen Granger, from whom her daughter received her strongest physical traits, looked down guiltily. "You could have told us what was going on," she said, her voice breaking. "I know we would have forgotten it all, but you could have told us."

Hermione nodded contritely, staring down at her lap. Beside her, Draco held her hand, giving it a squeeze when she would not look his way. When she finally looked up, she was surprised by the anger in his eyes. "And you'd really have gone along with the plan if you knew it?" he demanded despite her protests. "Would you really have allowed her to come back, knowing that she was about to fight a war? One in which the majority of the combatants wanted her dead? We needed her. She was vital to ending the war, and without her, our world would be in a shambles."

"Draco," Narcissa warned. "That's enough."

Dropping Hermione's hand, he rose. "No, it's not," he argued before turning to his girlfriend. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have arranged this. You don't deserve this, love."

"They're entitled to their feelings," Hermione stated. Scoffing, he turned on his heel and left. Wide brown eyes followed him until her father cleared his throat. "I'm sorry about him."

Robert scowled, arms crossed over his chest. His unblinking gaze made Hermione uncomfortable. "That boy is of little concern to me," he replied. "How you choose to fill your time is of little concern to me. What I'd like to know is if this meeting is over, and may I leave?"

Narcissa offered to Apparate them home, but Helen interjected. "I'm not ready to leave, so sit down, Bob," she declared, returning her attention to her daughter. "Sweetheart, I understand that you felt it was the only option you had, and there's nothing we could have done to protect ourselves against magic. I'm...grateful that you did what you did. It would have been nice to know ahead of time that you intended to do what you did, but you're a smart girl. I'm sure you had your reasons for not telling us. Right now, I'm more interested in knowing the story behind your living arrangements."

Narcissa excused herself, leaving Eleanor with Hermione. Though reluctant to speak to her angry son, she knew it was imperative. He paced in his father's study, stopping when he heard the door open and close. "You left her down there with them? Where's Eleanor?" he demanded.

"They're her parents," Narcissa replied calmly. "She and the baby will be fine."

Scoffing, he sat down behind the desk. "I'm a fool," he muttered, leaning against the headrest. "I'm a fool for asking Blaise and Adrian to find them and reverse the charm. I'm a fool for bringing them here. I'm a fool for thinking everything would be okay. I'll apologize to Hermione when she's done talking to them."

"Yes, apologies are in order," his mother agreed, taking a seat.

"I planned to propose," Draco admitted. "Do you think she'll still say yes after I yelled at her parents and walked out?"

Smiling, she nodded. "She loves you. Of course she'll say yes."

XIV.

The night air was chilly, but Hermione had Draco to provide a little extra warmth. They lounged on the balcony with a bottle of wine and blankets. She had yet to discuss her parents, and Draco had no intentions of pushing her to do so. "You're quiet," she murmured, staring at the stars.

"How much do you hate me?" he wondered.

"Well, I wasn't fond of you during labor," she joked. "I'm not sure I understand the question."

Sighing, he removed his arm from around her shoulders and sat forward. "Your parents...I asked Blaise to find them because I wanted them to be here when I propose. I don't know why. I mean, I know why I want to marry you, because I love you more than anything in the world. I don't know, I guess I felt like I needed to make some kind of grand gesture to get you to say yes."

Cold fingers brushed the fringe from his eyes. "Yes," she told him, smiling. "Whether they were here or not, my answer would be yes. Unless you weren't asking, in which case I now feel a bit foolish."

Grasping her hand, he turned to face her. "Hermione Granger, will you marry me?" he asked.

She took a moment to consider his proposal. "You're not just asking because of Ellie, are you?" she wondered. "Because...because I know you love me, but I don't want you to feel obligated to marry me. We've moved so fast as it is."

"Do you not want to marry me?" he asked.

Her hold on his hand tightened. "I do," she replied. "I just needed to be sure this wasn't some pureblooded, chivalrous, gentlemanly compulsion."

"When have I ever been a gentleman?" he murmured, leaning forward to kiss her. Hermione giggled as their lips met and her back hit the cushions beneath them. "So, what do you say? Does Mrs. Malfoy have the right ring to it?"

"I think it does."

XV.

Harry eyed the engagement announcement critically as he awaited Hermione's arrival. Since Malfoy's release, the friends had hardly spent time together. He had hoped to hear the news from her, rather than Rita Skeeter. A part of him wondered if it was true, hoping it was just another fabrication on the journalist's part.

Ten minutes later, a frazzled Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron. She navigated the pram through the small paths between tables, glaring at any who refused to pull in their legs or move their bags. With an exasperated sigh, she sat down at Harry's table. "Draco has a cold, and he's worse than the baby," she muttered. "What does sleep feel like? I miss it."

"It's magical," Harry commented with no trace of humor. "Is this true?"

Hermione stared at the front page of _The Daily Prophet_, unblinking and uncaring. "Are you expecting an apology?" she wondered, removing Eleanor from the pram as she began to fuss. "Okay, I'm sorry you found out this way. It should have come from me. I'm not sorry that I'm marrying Draco though. You don't have to like him. The two of you don't have to be pals. I would hope that the man who claims to be my best friend would be happy for me though."

Properly chagrined, Harry looked away. "It's not that I'm not happy for you," he replied. "I am. You deserve a good, happy, safe life. I just...I worry that Malfoy can't give you that. It's not the Death Eater thing or the years of tormenting. I saw how quickly he gave up on you and the baby when he was in prison. What happens when life gets tough again? Is he going to hide? Run away? Abandon you?"

Scoffing, Hermione settled her daughter down in the pram and stood to leave. "Thank you for your unbiased opinion," she retorted. "I admit that his behavior was hurtful, but can you honestly say you wouldn't act the same way in his situation? He was in prison, for Merlin's sake! He was scared that he might not survive five years in there. He was terrified of being a father, of being _his_ father. I won't hold that against him. He's a good father, and he's good to me. That's what I care about."

Harry followed her as she struggled to wheel the pram towards the exit. "Would you wait?" he said exasperatedly as they made it outside. "I wasn't attacking your boyfriend."

Hermione scoffed. "No, just my judgement," she interrupted.

Scowling, Harry shook his head and started over. "Look, I'm sorry, okay?" he replied. "You're my best friend, the sister I never had, and I just want to protect you however I can. You don't need me to, and I know that. Sometimes I just have an urge to do it. I do trust your judgement."

Lips still pursed, Hermione merely nodded. She wondered how much defending her relationship would need. There were so few people in her life that she considered family, but if Harry had doubts about her marriage, who else might? The Weasleys had already cast her off. Would Neville and Luna and Seamus and Dean be next? Would Harry and Slytherins be her only options?

"You have scared bunny face," Harry commented, taking the pram from her.

"I hate myself for wondering what others might think of Draco and me," she confessed. "I love him, and nothing anyone thinks will change that. Maybe I'm being silly, but what if the only people I have left are Draco and his mother?"

Harry grinned as he bumped her shoulder with his own. "You have me," he promised.

XVI.

"Don't worry, he'll show," Pansy Parkinson assured the nervous bride-to-be. With only days to go until the wedding, Hermione fretted about everything from her hair to her fiance. "We both know Narcissa and the Ministry wouldn't allow him to leave the grounds. There's nowhere for him to go."

"So, he's showing up because he has nothing else to do that day?" Hermione inquired. Pansy lounged on the bed with Eleanor while Hermione assembled centerpieces. "He's only going to marry me because the Ministry won't let him go to the Falcons game? Thanks, Pans, you're a great friend."

Blue eyes rolled as she tickled the toddler, who giggled uncontrollably. Before she could reply, the bedroom door opened and Draco entered. He eyed his friend curiously, and Pansy slowly vacated the bed. "I'll be downstairs looking for food," she said, slipping out of the room.

"Are you jealous that she likes me better?" Hermione asked.

He let out a stiff laugh as he picked up Eleanor from the bed. "Can we talk?" he asked, sitting down across from her.

Noting that he sat far away, Hermione was intrigued. "Are you sitting where you are with Ellie in your arms for a reason?" she inquired. "Are you hoping that whatever you say won't result in me hexing you because you know I won't hurt my child?"

"Something like that," he mumbled. "I think we should postpone the wedding."

She set down her scissors on the coffee table and sat back with her arms crossed over her chest. "There's a reason, right?" she asked tightly. "There's a good reason you don't want to get married now."

"I want to be a free man when we start our life together," he explained. "It's not fair to you to make you wait three more years for a honeymoon."

"But it's fair to make me wait three more years to be your wife?" she snapped. Draco looked away, unable to meet her gaze. Something about the guilt and shame in his eyes made Hermione change her tune. Rounding the small table, she joined him on the sofa. "I understand, and I'm sorry. It's not about the honeymoon, is it? That doesn't matter to me. Our wedding shouldn't feel wrong to you."

Sighing, he reached for her hand. "It doesn't feel wrong," he replied. "Marrying you feels right. I just want it to be perfect for you. It's bad enough I'm stuck under house arrest, you shouldn't be too."

"I'm not stuck," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I happen to like you, and the atmosphere is usually much better here than in the outside world. No one harasses me for pictures or questions what I'm doing with a Slytherin. It's peaceful here."

His eyebrow raise was dubious, at best, but he couldn't deny that there was something nice about avoiding reporters, photographers, Hermione's adoring public, and the wizarding folk who hated him. Malfoy Manor offered them an escape from the real world. "You don't mind being with my mother all day, every day?" he inquired. "Wedding planning with Narcissa must be driving you crazy."

Hermione laughed as Eleanor began to fuss for attention. "Be nice," she warned him. "When your house arrest is over and we need a sitter, who's coming to mind?"

"Potter," Draco replied, chuckling when she called him a liar. "What? You'd prefer Pansy babysit? I thought we didn't want our daughter to be a silly, airheaded twit who only thinks about boys and makeup."

"Gee, Draco, how do you really feel?" Hermione asked as she began to clean up the mess made by the centerpiece assembly.

He watched as she hurriedly cleared away the refuse, unsure if she was angry with him. "Are you mad?" he asked. "Because I asked to postpone the wedding, are you mad at me?"

Sighing, she sat down across from him and shrugged. "I'm disappointed," she admitted. "Your mother, Pansy, and I have put a lot of time and work into planning the wedding. I understand and completely support your reasons. That doesn't make it less disappointing though."

He rose, setting Eleanor down on the sofa, and knelt before his fiancee. "I'm sorry," he murmured, taking hold of her hand. "Here's how I see it though - we're a family, and a ring or a piece of paper doesn't change that. You believed me, you fought for me, you loved me when no one else did. I love you, Hermione, and I want to do this the right way."

Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, she nodded again. "Okay."


	5. XVII-XX

XVII.

"You're going to lose her."

Draco stared incredulously at his mother as they ate breakfast together. Hermione had left early that morning to see her parents, taking Eleanor with her. For the first time since their announcement that the wedding would be postponed, mother and son were alone. "Where'd you get that idea?" he asked, hoping she would not detect his anxiety.

Setting aside her utensils, Narcissa eyed him pointedly. "Being the mother of your child does not mean she will wait three years to marry you," she explained. "And in three years, when you're finally free, what happens when you decide you want to live your life? What if a wife and child aren't things you want when you get your life back? That girl has made far too many sacrifices to be jilted by you."

"What makes you think I'd do that?" he demanded. "I love her. We have a child together. I understand my responsibilities to her and Ellie. Hell, you made sure of that by moving her in here. I have no intentions of walking away from either of them. If she wants to leave, she's free to go. But I'm not going to leave her. If you'll excuse me, I've lost my appetite."

He didn't get far when his mother caught up to him in the foyer. "We're not finished," Narcissa told him, holding onto his arm.

"Yes, we are," he argued, shaking her hand away. "My fiancee has faith in me. It would be nice if my mother did too."

His words knocked some of the wind from her sails. "I trust you," she assured her son. "As much as I know you aren't your father, sometimes I need to be reminded that you're not him. He was arrested and sentenced to Azkaban for a second time when you were Eleanor's age. It wasn't a long incarceration, but it kept him away for all your milestones - first steps, first words. When he returned home, there were things he wanted to do once he regained his freedom. Fatherhood was not one of them. He'd spend weeks away on 'business' or long weekends with other Death Eaters. He was free and wanted to enjoy that, and I didn't put my foot down. I didn't demand that he be a husband and father."

"I'm not him," Draco said through clenched teeth. "I will never be him."

"I really hope you aren't."

Draco had far too much time to ruminate on those five little words. He hadn't noticed Hermione's return until she put Eleanor on his lap. Startled, he jumped up while clutching his daughter to keep her from falling to the floor. "Hi," he said when his wits were back about him. "How long have you been home?"

"Ten minutes," Hermione replied. "How long have you been staring at that tree?"

"A few hours," he mumbled, sitting down. "Do you think I'll be like my father?"

Frowning, Hermione sat beside him. She said nothing as he told her of the conversation he and his mother had had over breakfast. "Is that something you'd want to do?" she wondered. "You have had an awful go at the last couple of years, and there's still three more stuck under house arrest. I'm not sure I'd blame you if you wanted to get away from here...and us."

Draco scoffed, hurt and angry that she would think he would leave her. "Do you want to know what I thought about when I was in there?" he asked her. "I thought about you and the baby we were going to have. I thought about where we'd live. How would we decorate the nursery? Would we have a big yard? Which room would we make a library? How young would Ellie be when she learned to read? Thinking about the two of you kept me sane. I need you. Leaving isn't an option for me. You and Ellie will just have to come with me when I escape."

"If you did want out, you'd tell me?" she requested. "I know been a teenaged parent while in prison wasn't what you had in mind for your five year plan, and maybe we should have been more careful that night-"

"Would you have fought for me the way you did if you weren't pregnant?" Draco inquired, feeling his anger grow. "I told you not to wait for me. If Eleanor weren't a factor, would you have listened? Would we be discussing marriage now if Eleanor hadn't been born?"

When she didn't - couldn't - answer, Draco walked away with their daughter in his arms. After putting her down for a nap, he returned to the master bedroom to find himself alone. He planned to wait for her to come back, but as the minutes ticked by, he realized he would need to go after her.

He didn't have far to go.

Exiting their room, he found her seated on the floor outside their door. Groaning, he lowered himself to sit beside her. "I'm sorry," he said, reaching for her hand. "I don't want you to answer those questions. I just...I'm so sorry, love."

Hermione kept her arms crossed over her chest and moved minutely away from him. "No, you're right," she replied. "We were a fling. It wasn't supposed to last. And you're right - I probably wouldn't have stuck around if it weren't for Ellie. I would have fought for you though. You didn't deserve the sentence you received, so yes, I would have done that for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to pack."

Following her, Draco watched in horror as she began to throw a few days' worth of clothes into a bag. "Where are you going?" he asked, his voice soft and apologetic.

"I'll stay with my parents," she informed him. "Mum nearly fought me when I walked through the door with Ellie. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have us. Dad's even coming around to me. I think that's El though. He loves her. He can focus on her and pretend I'm not there."

Draco held her arm, keeping her from her task. "Don't do this," he begged. "Don't leave. Don't take Eleanor. You promised me you wouldn't do this. You can't take my child from me."

"I just need to cool down. We'll be back in a couple of days," she stated, shaking off his hand to continue her task. He watched in silence as she finished packing and roused a sleeping Eleanor. "There's a fireplace that I've connected to the floo network. Granger house is all you need to say in case of an emergency. I'll check in, I promise."

XVIII.

"You're going to lose him."

Hermione rolled her eyes as she unpacked. "Mother," she warned.

"It's not a lecture on things being done in the wrong order," Helen assured her. "I understand being young and impulsive. The sixties were a turbulent time for...many. However, I can't help but believe that Ellie needs her father, and walking away from him like this is only going to cause irreparable damage. What's worse is you won't even tell me why you left."

Sighing, she stepped away from her task and sat on her childhood bed. "We had a fight," she mumbled. "It was such a stupid fight, too. He wants to be with me, but he's also questioning my feelings for him. I don't know, maybe I'm questioning them too. What if I don't really have him? What if he's only staying because of his sentence and the baby? The second the house arrest is over, I don't want to be the reason he doesn't live his life. Do...do you think I should have just gone it alone?"

Helen sat down beside her daughter and looped an arm around her shoulders. "I think you did the right thing by telling him," she replied. "He had the right to know he was going to be a father. It was up to him to decide what to do with that information, and it seems to me that he chose to be with you. Wasn't that why he sent his friends to find us, so he could propose?"

Chagrined, Hermione nodded as she stared at her socked feet. "I can't help but wonder if he'd have done that if Eleanor weren't a part of our lives," she admitted. "He loves me, I know that. But we're young and we were reckless, and I don't know that he wants to be tied down."

"Do you want to be tied down?" Helen wondered. When Hermione didn't reply, she continued. "Marriage doesn't mean you're tied down. Having a toddler doesn't mean you're tied down. I know you're young and this is a bit scary, but you've faced worse. I don't think you need to be married because of Eleanor. I just don't think marrying Draco would be so terrible."

Helen stood and made her way to the door. It wasn't until she had one foot in the hallway that Hermione spoke up. "Could you watch Ellie for an hour or so?" she asked. When her mother nodded, Hermione Apparated home to Malfoy Manor. After a few minutes of searching, she found Draco tucked away in an alcove in the library. He briefly glanced up from his book when he saw her, but ignored her and continued reading. "How mad at me are you?" she asked.

Draco shrugged. Knowing he could keep silent, Hermione sat down across from him to wait. "Quit looking at me," he muttered, shifting the book up so it covered his face.

"But I like looking at you," Hermione replied. "You're pretty easy on the eyes. And I know, flattery is going to get me nowhere. I just thought you should know that I think you're handsome." Draco refused to budge. And so, Hermione changed tactics. She moved to the chaise upon which he lounged, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I love you."

"Yup," Draco muttered, turning the page. When she played with the buttons on his shirt, he slapped her hand away. When she moved closer, he moved away. She sighed, he ignored her. Finally, she gave up and left him alone. "Hey! Are you leaving again?"

"Do you want me to?" she wondered. "I mean, at some point I should pick up Eleanor, so technically, I will have to leave. But do you want me to leave?"

Sighing, Draco tossed his book aside, knowing that would infuriate his fiancee. "It doesn't matter what I want," he told her. They stood close, but didn't touch. "What do you want, love?"

Hermione leaned against the doorframe and considered his question for a moment. It was easy to picture a life with Draco. She could see them growing old together. She could imagine having more children. She knew she could be happy with him.

"You," she finally said. "But I think we should wait a couple of years to get married."

XIX.

Ron Weasley met Hermione in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. After five years, Draco sentence was finally over. "Don't get your hopes up," he muttered. "They're allowed to extend them if they want to. They've made a lot of concessions for him already because of you. House arrest could become indefinite."

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione replied sarcastically. "I haven't slept in two days. Would you like to point out how terrible I look too? Really kick me while I'm down."

It had been half a decade since the former friends had spoken, but Ron seemed to not have changed in that time. His temper was still fiery, and his penchant to hold a grudge hadn't diminished. Harry had mentioned that Ron seemed disinterested in relationships or leaving the Burrow unless work called.

"I'm not kicking you while you're down," he stated defensively. "I just want you to go in with a realistic mindset. If you ask me, the wanker shouldn't have been let out of Azkaban. I guess that's just the kind of favor you get when you knock up the brains of the Golden Trio."

Grabbing his arm, Hermione pulled Ron to a stop. Fire flashed in her brown eyes as she stared him down. "Get over it," she spat. "Are you really that deeply wounded that Draco won? Is that all I was to you - a prize to be won? I should have been more honest with you and Harry about my relationship, but it was my choice to keep that private. I'm sure you've kept plenty from me, so I won't apologize. Call it a draw. Besides, you didn't want to talk to me. You found out about Draco and me, and decided that I wasn't worth your time anymore."

"And I didn't deserve to be angry?" he demanded. "We kissed. That meant something to me. Can you really say it meant nothing to you?"

Sighing, she let go of him and stepped back. "You're right," she admitted. "What I did that night was wrong and unfair to you. I think I was caught up in the moment of destroying that horcrux, and I didn't think. I'm sorry about that, Ron."

The fight was taken out of him, and Ron leaned back against the nearest wall. "I'm never going to be okay with you being with Malfoy," he said. "It's just weird, given our history with him. Your kid is cute though. Harry's shown us pictures. She'll be, what, five soon?"

"January thirty-first," Hermione replied proudly. "She was a few days early. Draco refuses to accept that we have a kid her age. And no, you may not comment that we could easily have waited."

Ron grinned as he escorted her to the hearing. "Me? Never," he remarked. "If you're happy, I guess I can be happy for you."

"Thanks, Ronald," she replied. "I am happy. I'll be even happier when Draco is a free man again."

Draco stood, unshackled, in the middle of the courtroom as the Wizengamot filed in. Kingsley, rather than take his place in the center chair, joined Draco on the floor. "I've read letters written by your mother, case workers, parole Auror, and fiancee," he said casually. "You seem to have kept your nose clean these last five years. I don't doubt that Auror Potter and Ms. Granger had a direct hand in that. Not that I thought that was impossible. It's just hard to pull anything over on those two. You've learned that by now, I'm sure." Laughter met the Minister's ears and he smiled.

"I've not had the opportunity to preside over many parole cases," he continued. "Today, I knew I had to make an exception. I like giving good news, and your freedom seemed like good news."

Draco stared wide eyed. "What?"

Kingsley's smile grew wider as he removed his wand from the sleeve of his robes. The trace was lifted, and it was like a weight off Draco's shoulders. "You're a free man, Mr. Malfoy. Make wise decisions, and make sure you're never back in this room."

After shaking the Minister's hand, Draco bound up the steps to hug Hermione. "Welcome home, Mr. Malfoy," she whispered, kissing his cheek.

His elation was short lived when he saw Ron standing next to her. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, staring down the redhead.

"My job," Ron replied just as acidically.

"Are you done doing your job?" Draco inquired, making a show of putting his arm around Hermione. "Are we free to leave now?"

Lips pursed, Ron nodded. As they walked passed, Hermione apologized, but he brushed it off. "Was that necessary?" she asked as they left the Ministry. Draco shrugged as they stepped outside and he breathed in the fresh air. "I think he wants to make amends, and I wouldn't mind making the effort to do that. However, it's imperative to the friendship that you don't hex or or hurt or maim him whenever he's around. Although, I'm not stupid enough to actually bring him by the house."

"Why? It's your house too," Draco replied, receiving an incredulous look from his fiancee. "Stop that. I'm in a good mood right now. You could probably convince me to sky drive right now."

"Dive, sweetie, skydive," she corrected him. "All I intended to talk you into was taking Ellie for a stroll through Hogsmeade. I miss Hogsmeade in the winter."

Draco nodded before Apparating them back to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa and Eleanor waited for their return, and perked up at the first sight of the couple. "Well?" Eleanor asked as she wrapped her arms around her father's legs. "What happened, Daddy? Are you gonna stay here forever?"

Grinning, he picked her up. "Well, unless you get sick of me, we're stuck together forever," he told her.

XX.

"Daddy, what's going to happen after you marry Mummy?" Eleanor wondered as they strolled the gardens together hours before the ceremony. "Nana said we're gonna move. Is that really what we're doing? And what happens to Nana if we leave? We can't leave Nana, Daddy. She'll be sad, and then I'll be sad that Nana's sad. So, if we move, we have to take Nana too."

Draco chuckled as she rambled. She had certainly inherited her mother's gift for gab, as well as the ability to make him feel guilty. "How do you know Nana wants to leave her house?" he inquired, stopping to sit on the side of the large fountain that adorned the grounds. It was in that spot where he would soon be wed. "She's lived here an awfully long time. This was my first house. Nana watched me walk and listened to me talk here, same as she did with you. And don't think I've forgiven you for saying 'Nana' before 'Daddy'."

"I did say Mummy's name first," she reminded him. "Well, at least that's what Mummy says. But Nana and I talked about it a lot, and she said she doesn't want me to leave. So, either Nana has to come with us or I have to stay here. Can you really say you'd be okay with that, Dad?"

"Merlin, you're a Slytherin," he muttered. "Always hoped you'd be more like your mother, but you're me, little girl. Well, maybe the next one. And I would have to talk to Mummy, but if she's okay with Nana living with us and Nana is okay with living us, then I see no reason why we couldn't all buy a nice house together. You get first month's mortgage though."

Eleanor held out her hand to shake on the deal as he pulled on a brown curl. "Daddy, why'd you wait so long to marry Mummy?" she wondered.

Sighing, he held her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "You know that the Ministry of Magic didn't let me leave the house, but we never really told you why," he began, unable to look his daughter in the eye. He could feel those pools of gray trained on him though. "I did bad things when I was younger, things I'm not proud of. I think a part of me did it to be remembered, but I don't want to be remembered for that stuff.

"Anyhow, you know when you steal a cookie or have a tantrum because you're not getting your way? And then Mummy makes you sit in time out or tells you you can't have dessert," he continued. "Well, I got a five year time out because of what I did. And your mum and I decided that we wanted to wait to be married so there would be no restrictions on it. Nothing really changes when we get married. We're still going to love each other and live together and take care of you. Mum just gets a new last name and a nice vacation."

Eleanor scowled as her free hand skimmed the water. "And what do I get?" she wondered.

"I could throw you in the fountain," Draco offered, but the joke did nothing to change her mood. "What is it you're hoping to get? You know, despite what your grandmother says, you don't need to get something every time something happens. I don't want you to grow up thinking that way."

Leaning against his side, Eleanor held tightly to his arm. "I don't need anything, Dad," she told him. "Just promise not to make Mummy sad. You and Mum always acted like I didn't know what was going on, but I did. She always worried about you, or that you'd leave."

"I'm not going anywhere, baby," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "There's nothing to worry about now. Mummy and I will be married in a few hours, and I love the both of you too much to leave you."

"Nana said your father said the same things to her," Eleanor shared. "He did bad things too, right? That's why he left. He kept doing bad things, so the Ministry sent him away."

Draco nodded, letting her know she was correct. His father had done despicable things, things he would never tell his children about, and things he himself would never have to witness again. "My father didn't have the same feelings about his family that I have about mine," he eventually said. "You and your mother were all I thought about when I was in prison, and you're all I think about every day. I never wanted you to not know me, and I never wanted to be away from you. Lucky for me, your mum has endless faith in me, and fought for me to come home. We fought once. You were maybe a year or so old. She thought I was going to leave when my sentence ended."

"Would you have taken us with you?" Eleanor wondered.

Smiling, he pulled her onto his lap, careful not to fall into the water behind him. "You know I would," he replied. "Now, let's get you dressed. I'm sure your mother and my mother are having a conniption because I kept you away so long."


	6. Epilogue

As always, thanks for reading!

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

"What the hell am I doing here?" Draco asked through a false smile. It had taken his wife a decade to work up the nerve to attend a Ministry gala in honor of the Second Wizarding War's fallen.

"Keeping your wife from pitching herself off the Astronomy Tower," Hermione replied as they entered the Great Hall arm-in-arm. The hall was packed - The Minister of Magic, Ministry delegates, mid-level employees, even the secretarial pool joined those who fought bravely and survived the battle. Familiar faces smiled and blurred together as the couple made their way into the gathering. "I'm jealous of a nine year old right now."

Draco chuckled as he grabbed a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. "Drink up, love. We're in for a long night," he cautioned, handing her the glass after taking a sip. "Crazy, isn't it? Ellie will be here in a couple of years."

Hermione groaned as they joined Harry and Ron by the bar. Over the years, her friendship with Ron had been repaired, and he and Draco had come to be friendly acquaintances. The foursome greeted one another with hugs and handshakes. "Ellie isn't going here," Hermione announced. "And when Ariella is old enough, she's not going either."

"So what? The brightest witch of our age is going to homeschool her daughters until they're old enough to work?" Ron wondered.

"Oh, she's never letting them leave," Draco replied. "They'll stay home, take care of us in our old age, never marry. While I'm a big fan of my daughters never be exposed to boys, I think it's a bit unrealistic to keep them locked up forever."

Hermione glowered, but the men ignored it. "Your opinions on the matter don't count until you've given birth," she told them.

"Two of us are fathers," Harry pointed out. "I'm not crazy about shipping off my kids either, but they need to be educated. Plus, there are no madmen hellbent on eradicating the non-purebloods anymore. The place has never been safer than it is now."

Hermione knew he was right. There were no Voldemorts, no Lucius Malfoys, no Carrows or Lestranges. Her girls would be safe. Headmistress McGonagall had far harsher rules and punishments for purebloods who mocked the "lesser born". Yes, her daughters would be safe at Hogwarts.

"They'll be fine," Draco whispered, kissing her temple.

"Am I really the only one who worries about this?" Hermione wondered. "Am I the only one who worries that something or someone might threaten the school again? We can't protect them here."

Ron rolled his eyes. "You can't protect them anywhere," he pointed out. "Eleanor has lived with the two of you long enough to know how to defend herself, both physically and verbally. By the way, who teaches a six year old the bat bogey hex, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "It was easier to teach than jelly legs," he responded. "Ari's getting her lesson next week. And you thought kicks to the shin were bad."

Hermione chastised them both as numerous former classmates came to greet them. In the crowd, Draco was easily able to slip away. He breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the stairs. Wandering aimlessly, he found himself at the Astronomy Tower, and was surprised when he wasn't alone.

"What brings you here?" Neville Longbottom asked, making his way toward his former tormentor. Ten years later, he was tall and had thinned out. Draco no longer scared him; after the war, there was very little that did. Draco extended his hand, eyebrows rising in surprise when it was accepted. "Hermione dragged you here, didn't she? I only come because I'm teaching here now. Otherwise, I...I don't know that I'd ever see any of these people again."

Draco shrugged as he surveyed the space they currently occupied. It was often the setting of his nightmares. If he closed his eyes, he could picture Dumbledore falling, falling, falling to the ground below. Instead, he removed a silver flask from his blazer pocket. "She thought it appropriate given the anniversary," he remarked. "Though I think both of us would rather be home. I was the bad guy, after all. I don't really belong here."

Neville snorted. "Hermione wouldn't still be with you if you were still the bad guy," he said. "Besides, I watched you during the battle. There were more protection shields coming from your wand than killing curses. Tell me something - have you ever actually used the killing curse?"

Taking a swig, he shook his head and passed Neville the flask. "According to my father, I was always too much of a coward to use it," Draco shared. "At least I'm not locked in a cell anymore."

"It wasn't much better on the outside," Neville muttered, staring down at the dark grounds. "I'd rather be the ignored, sometimes teased, little kid I used to be than the 'hero'. I still haven't gotten used to the attention. You'd think that it would have died down by now, but not a day goes by that someone doesn't want to discuss the war with me."

Draco took back the flask and drank. "Eleanor was six the first time she saw the mark," he recalled. "She thought I'd stuck my arm in the fire, and the faded mark was a burn. I should have lied."

"She would have read about it eventually," Neville interjected. "We adopted, Hannah and I. He was a war orphan, and from the time he could speak, that was all he asked about. He was five when we adopted him, and the orphanage made sure he knew his new father was a war hero, the guy who cut the head off Voldemort's snake. Jason - that's his name - he tells everyone he meets that his dad is Neville Longbottom."

"Pretty sure I don't have to worry about that," Draco joked. "No one brags about the Death Eater who knocked up the war heroine before going to prison."

"My, you two are depressing."

The pair turned to find Hermione standing behind them. Draco quickly hid the flask and smiled at his wife. "This place doesn't exactly inspire the warm and fuzzies," he retorted. "What are the chances you came to find me to tell me we're going home?"

"Oh, did you want to leave?" Hermione asked, feigning surprise. "McGonagall invited you to spend the night in her personal quarters. Now, I found it strange, but you know I'm not one to judge."

Draco grinned ruefully. "And yet I'll be the one remembered for being cruel and evil," he remarked.

"She's a war hero," Neville reminded him. "She could murder a family of cats, spike the punch at the Yule Ball, and set your house on fire, and she'd still be seen as a hero."

"Your mind is a dark, scary place," Draco replied.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "Neville's always had a wonderful sense of humor. Perhaps you should have given him a chance when we were younger," she chided.

"She's right," Draco said, stepping towards a stunned Neville. "I'm sorry."

The men shook hands for the second time, and Neville smiled. "Forget it," he replied. "And don't the two of you be strangers. Ten years is too long to go without seeing you, Hermione." He passed them, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze, and disappeared from sight.

Alone, Draco leaned against the railing. "Did you stay away from these people because of me?" he wondered. "Because you knew they wouldn't approve?"

Bothered by the sudden change in his demeanor, Hermione maintained her distance. "No," she told him, sure he did not believe her. "I mean it. I had my own reasons for staying away, and none of them had to do with fear of their approval. Being back here, even ten years later, I regret coming back. It's easier to not think about it when we're not forced to think about it. Seeing this place, these people, makes me think about it. You and your mother provided me plenty of distractions after the war, and then Ellie came along to keep my mind off it. I don't like thinking about this, sweetheart. It's cowardly, I know, but just once I'd like to not be the brave Gryffindor."

His arms were soon around her as she broke down. "It's not cowardly, love," he murmured, kissing her hair. "The only thing I ever expect from you is to just be you. You want to be distracted, I'll help. You want to throw things at me, I'll stand still. You know I'll be there when you want to cry or laugh or just not talk. I'm sorry for what I said. I'm sorry, love."

Taking a deep breath, she pulled away and wiped her eyes. "Don't be sorry. Just...let's go home," she said. "Let's tuck the girls in and curl up with a movie. Or they could stay up and watch with us. Let's just spend the night with them instead."

Nodding, he led her back through the castle without saying his own goodbyes. Once outside the Hogwarts gates, he Apparated them home. Narcissa looked up from her book and frowned. Carefully, she moved the little, brown-haired three year old's head from her lap. "Isn't it a bit early for the two of you to be home?" she wondered, concerned that something had happened at the gala. Shaking her head, Hermione passed by her mother-in-law and picked up Ariella. The Malfoys didn't speak until they heard Ariella's door close upstairs.

"We're fine, Mum," he assured her. "No one was mean to us. No one tried to shame her into divorcing me and taking the kids. It was just...too hard being there. I don't really want to talk about it, and I know Hermione doesn't either. Is Eleanor still awake?"

Narcissa confirmed that she was, and Draco made his way to her room. "I thought we were parent-free tonight," she commented when he entered. "Nan said the biker gang and keg are arriving in an hour."

"You're nine. Please act like it," Draco replied, sitting at the foot of her bed. "I don't like my little girl surly and sarcastic. Your grandmother would tell you you'll never find a man with an attitude like that, but I suddenly support it now. Carry on."

Laughing, Eleanor closed her book, tied back her shoulder length locks, and curled up on his lap. "Is this better, Daddy?" she asked. Draco nodded and gave her ponytail a gentle tug. "Was it bad? Mum looked like she was crying when she passed my room. Should we watch _A League of their Own_ or _It's a Wonderful Life_?"

"You pick," he decided. "And let Nana handle the popcorn. The last time you did it, you blew up the microwave. You know your mother loves..._lives_ for the microwave."

With a roll of her eyes, Eleanor left her father and bedroom for the living room. Seconds later, after taking a look at the clutter of books and clothes and blankets, he went to his youngest daughter's bedroom next door. "She's so precious when she sleeps," Hermione whispered, smoothing back Ariella's hair. "She's always been such a good sleeper. Only woke up for a few seconds to tell me I look pretty before falling back to sleep. How did we get so lucky, Draco?"

He had a feeling she wasn't only referring to their children. Her thoughts were on the people who died or suffered life altering wounds in battle. She thought about Ginny Potter who spent years struggling to conceive before giving birth to James six years after she and Harry had married. The war had torn apart families, but had also brought a new family together.

Kneeling beside the bed, Draco leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I don't know. We just did," he murmured. "Tell me something - are you happy with the way life has turned out, Mrs. Malfoy?"

Carefully, she rolled over to face him. "You know, I really am."

The End.


End file.
